


Collective Madness is called Sanity

by PanterAlice



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anorexia, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Hospital, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanterAlice/pseuds/PanterAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil, sick of fulfilling everyone's expectation, tries to commit suicide and escape a life he does not want to lead. However, he ends up in a mental hospital where he meets a young boy who is even more broken than he himself. From there on, he will try to help and protect the boy as well as convince everyone that he is not crazy.</p>
<p>(Inspired by the book 'Veronica decides to die' by Paulo Coelho)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> Wow, it's been a while since I last wrote fanfiction...  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy. The story starts off very dark, but it will get better, I promise!  
> English is not my first language, so please excuse the terrible writing. And as stated in the tags: Trigger-warnings, have a look at the tags first if you are easily triggered!!
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!  
> much love x

What was the point?   
He locked eyes with the man staring at him in the wide bathroom mirror, as if he was searching for reassurance. He was even paler than usual, his lips quivering slightly. But he made his decision. There was no way he was going to change his mind, he thought as he opened a bottle of pure vodka and let the pure liquid flow into a glass. With trembling hands placed the black haired boy the glass down, almost spilling the expensive drink. He opened the cupboard underneath the sink, never breaking eye contact, and pulled out a little square box, then another one and another one – five in total. Sleeping pills and painkillers. Quickly he opened the boxes and pulled out a few from each package, completely ignoring the instructions in the little box.   
He took one last deep breath, before he left the bathroom. Yes, he could definitely do this. 

It was never like Phil had depressions, neither was he one of the misfit people of society. On the contrary, he was a well behaved 24 year old man. He went to school without causing his parents any trouble. He went to university to study economics, just as his parents wanted him to. He graduated and immediately found a quite well paid job, which almost brought tears to his father’s proud eyes.

But that was never the life he wanted. He can see all of it, a path laid out in front of him, and no way around it. He was going to work most of his life in a job he did not want to pursue. One day, he will meet a nice, sweet girl that would charm his parents. And because Phil always does what seems to be the right thing to do, he will ask her to marry him at some point. They might even be happy for the first few years, until they will start drifting apart. At some point, his wife would realize that Phil could not give her the satisfaction she wanted. She would yell at him and cry daily, and he would try his best to become a better husband, although in his heart he would always know, that it was not meant to be this way. That instead he wanted to fall asleep in a guy’s strong arms, something he could never admit to anyone. His parents were highly religious, before he even realized that he preferred men, they already tried to burn into his brain how wrong that was. That he should never go down that path. That he would end up in hell.   
Furthermore, Phil always longed for more than the ordinary relationship. To see how superficial this society has become makes him sick to his stomach. People always considered him lucky for being a pretty guy. But that was just utter bullshit to him. You can’t really change your appearance – why should it be more important than one’s character? He longed for someone who was not just with him because of looks and because that’s how it is appropriate, how his family always imagined it. No, Phil wanted more. He wanted a deep connection, not just hollow conversations as he leads with every girl his parents tried to set him up with. And one day, when he might find that one person, he would probably cheat on his wife and destroy a whole life that was meant to be perfect, but there won’t be a happy ever after. It would crush her, his parents, and in the end also himself. It would probably end the same way it does now.

So, what’s the bloody point?   
Of course, it was not an easy task to get over the death of a son. But they could bear it. It was only one situation after all. But they could not cope with being disappointed by him every single day for the rest of their lives – and neither could Phil. 

Phil’s mind went blank, as he swallowed the first few pills, followed by some huge sips of vodka. Wash rinse and repeat. He made sure not to swallow all of them at the same time, but to increase the intake gradually all few minutes, combined with alcohol, until all the little oddly shaped pills were gone.  
It took a while for the pills to kick in. That was good. Most people would at that point probably start to question their attempt, regret it, try to get the poison running through their veins out of their body, but Phil does not. In fact, it gives him some time, to set up everything the way he wanted it. First, he turned on the radio and filled his apartment with the beautiful sounds of Muse’s ‘Sing for Absolution’.   
Then he grabbed a pen and some sheets of paper, before slouching himself on the comfortable sofa, thinking whether or not he should write a suicide note. Would it be better to die without an explanation? Would it cause his parents more or less pain?  
His stomach started to rumble slightly. Not really painful yet, but not very pleasant either. Phil has been tempted to research how it would feel to die by an overdose but he refused to do so. If you are afraid of the pain, you are not ready to attempt suicide. And it simply did not matter to him – he could endure a few hours of pain if he was in return getting rid of all the pain he would cause himself and all the people around him over the decades. 

For what felt like hours, he just sat there, a lot of crumbled pages around him. He tried, he really did. But he had no idea what to say. He sighed loudly, his mind was getting fuzzy. The pain got worse every minute, his breathing got harder and harder. His last thought was whether there actually was a hell and if so, is being a good person enough to avoid it?  
No, that’s a lie. His very last thought was, whether caterpillars felt the same way, when they settled down into their cocoon to become a butterfly. But, he thought as his consciousness slipped away, he would never admit that. 

 

~~~

 

In a completely different part of England in the garden of a huge building, a young man with brown hair and cinnamon-colored eyes was sat down with his back to the wall and gazing at the stars. The doctors were trying to force him to eat at dinner before, as they always would, but he refused. He refused to eat, to talk to the doctors, to take part in the clinic’s daily life. What was the point? They did not understand.   
He looked up again, his sad eyes trying to make out the complicated patterns the stars painted in front of him. Oh, how much he wished that something – anything – in his life would change for the better. He let his head fall into his hands und tugged at his slightly too long hair until it hurt.  
If only he knew that the person who would bring him the so much awaited change was sat in his own apartment, barely breathing at that point. It won’t be long now until that someone would be found and brought straight into his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone who read the beginning of my story!  
> Here we go again, I hope you like it!

The first thing he noticed was that his throat hurt a lot, like someone scrubbed it with a cactus. The next thing was a steady beep beep beep, a sound he instantly hated. It seemed to come from a machine next to his bed. Apart from that he heard nothing at all. He finally opened his eyes.

Phil has never been in a room like that. Everything looked sterile and white and completely strange to him. He tried to sit up, but felt so weak, that he gave up soon and let himself fall back into the fluffy pillows. 

“Ah, Mr. Lester, you are awake. Your family will be thrilled. I’ll go and get your doctor, okay? Everything will be okay, just stay calm”, a cheerful female voice said. Phil snorted. He wanted to ask her sarcastically what there was to be so happy about, but he already heard the door close loudly behind her. It was not important now anyway. 

Where the hell was he? Did she say something about a doctor? What happened, did he have an accident? He took himself some time to try and remember what the last thing was that he knew was not part of his last dream, but it felt like his brain was a ball of cotton wool; he was not able to reconstruct what was wrong. 

The door was opened again, this time by a man in his forties. “Mr. Lester?”   
“Phil”, he corrected the doctor and tried to straighten a bit.   
The man put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving, before he sat down on a wooden chair next to Phil’s bed. “Hello Phil, I’m doctor Snyder. We are all very relieved that you finally woke up. ”   
“That I finally woke… wait! What happened? Was I in a coma or something?” Phil noticed that his voice sounded husky, speaking felt uncomfortable.   
Dr. Snyder shook his head. “You were not in a coma, but you were unconscious for a few hours now. Do you remember anything that happened?” 

Phil swallowed and shook his head in confusion. “I don’t really remember anything. What happened? Please tell me!”  
The older man sighed loudly and looked his patient straight to the eyes. “There is no easy way to explain this to you, so I’ll just say it, okay? You overdosed on painkillers and sleeping pill. We had to pump your stomach and you stayed unconscious for a while”

The ebony haired boy blinked a few times. All the memories came back, like a storm full of pictures. Slowly, the truth started seeping into his brain. The fact that he tried to kill himself did not surprise him that much. He has been playing with the thought of suicide for a while. But he realized what that must mean.  
“it… it didn’t work?” he mumbled confused. “Why? What went wrong?” 

“Well, I would not call it ‘went wrong’. You turned on your radio so loud, that your neighbor tried to knock on your door and complain, but you did not react, obviously. Luckily, you did not lock your door, so he found you and immediately called 911. You should thank him.”   
Phil groaned. He failed. “oh yeah, I should really thank him. I will remember to lock my door the next time, thank you very much. Can I go now?”

Doctor Snyder shook his head and offered him a sad smile. He tried to explain: “There won’t be a next time. I already talked to your parents, everything is set up. As soon as y…”   
But Phil interrupted him straight away and shouted, ignoring his hoarse throat: “What do you mean? It’s none of your business, in the end it is my decision whether I want to live or not! And I am an adult! What did you tell my parents?!”   
“Incorrect. I’m a doctor and it is my duty to save lives. And I talked to your parents about your treatment. You clearly have psychological problems and I would strongly suggest that you will stay in our clinic until we decide that you won’t try to hurt yourself again. Your parents agreed instantly.   
I’m sure you will find that the St. Mountain Hospital is a lovely place. We already found you two roommates. We will keep you here for another few hours for observation, just to make sure there are no side effects. Afterwards you will move from this room into our nicer area, where you will share a room with Chris and Dan. But for now, you just need to rest.”   
The conversation went on like that for a while, but Phil failed to change the doctor’s mind. 

 

“Dan, would you please pay attention?”, a middle-aged woman with thin rimmed glasses spoke up, sending a hopeless gaze into the direction of the young boy who just stared to the opposite wall with no facial expression at all. She wondered if Dan saw something that was not really there, but threw this thought away immediately – she knew that Dan did not suffer from schizophrenia, although it seemed like that sometimes. Dan snapped out of his trance and it took him a moment to find back to the cold mask he usually wears daily. Normally, he has no problem to keep this little game up and play the tough guy no one would ever try to touch. But occasionally, the teenager has some weird flashbacks that just make him want to scream his lunges out. It was not really bad this time, but if the woman did not snap him out of it, it probably would have gotten much worse. He cringed at the thought and messed with his hair a little, before he glared at her. She sighed and continued the therapy as if nothing happened. 

He hated group therapy. Well, actually he hated therapy in general. He just waited until the doctors gave up on him. He has only been here a week and they were already getting desperate for his lack of response and sharing his feelings. It was almost comical.  
Since he just arrived, he did not know everyone in this group yet. He obviously talked to Chris before, they shared a room after all, but did not form an opinion on him yet. Charlie and Dean were sitting next to him, whispering into each other’s ear and laughed silently. Then there was Roxy, a girl all dressed in black who had difficulties to sit still and always fiddled with something or tapped a rhythm on the table in front of her. Furthermore, there were some twin-girls whose name he forgot and another tiny girl called Jessy, who looked downright terrified by everyone and everything. And then there was Sam, the other tough boy in the group. He was arguing loudly with the woman leading the therapy and after a moment Dan zoned out again.

Soon the therapy was over and they were free for the afternoon. The twins skipped out of the room, hand in hand. Roxy sighed and gave him a little smile, before she took her Ipod out of her dotted bag and left to go outside. Chris walked up to him. “So, we’re getting a new roomie today. How about that”, he stated.  
“Oh yeah, great, another crazy person, I can’t fucking wait”, Dan answered as soon as the woman left the room. Chris smirked. “Well, you are one as well, so he will fit right in”  
Dan just shot him an annoyed look, before he left him without a good bye. Chris was nice enough, but way too chatty. And Dan did certainly not plan to get attached to anyone in here. He slouched up the stairs and through the long hallway, not motivated to do anything but still in desperate need of distraction. 

He planned to get in and just let himself fall right on to his bed;  
Except that there was already someone seated. 

 

Phil was led into his new room about 20 minutes ago. He can’t really say that he likes it. It was bigger than expected, light flooded. But there was still too much white for his taste and the windows could not be opened. From what he could tell so far, one of his roommates was messy as fuck, while the second one barely had any stuff with him. He was not even able to tell which of the two beds not covered in clothes, stuffed animals and books was his. 

Coming here was a weird experience. He did not talk to his parents yet, but thankfully they dropped off a bag full of his stuff so he would have all necessary things with him. The doctor said he will have this day off, to make himself at home and get to know the people he would be living with. The next day he would have his first official talk with a psychiatrist, before his therapy was going to start. Phil rolled his eyes at the thought. He did not need therapy! There was nothing to be cured!

He sighed and let himself fall down on the bed near the window, which was the exact moment when the door opened and someone looked at him in anger. A boy who seemed to be a few years younger than him and with the same haircut as himself stood in the doorway. He was tall, almost as tall as Phil, but at the same time he looked so small and fragile. Phil’s eyes traveled from his face down his body and back to meet his chocolate brown eyes. He noticed how skinny his arms and legs were. His black skinny jeans were hanging loose around his thighs; his wrists were as thin as a little girl’s. But there was something in his eyes that fascinated him - Warm, shy, hostile and terrified at the same time. Phil swallowed dry, before he decided that that was enough of staring, because the boy lifted an eyebrow, as if he wanted to say ‘are you done now? Do you want a picture?’

“Hi, I’m Phil. You must be Dan or Chris…?”, he asked with a shy smile.  
“Hi Phil. This is my bed you’re sitting on. Get off.”, was all the other boy said. Phil furrowed his brows. This was going to be a fun time. Yay. He did not answer, but got up quickly and put his bags onto the other free bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry sorry, that took ages. I'll try to update more frequently. However, this chapter is much longer than the ones before. hope you enjoy :) 
> 
> Warnings: Description of self-harm, implied eating disorder

Phil absentmindedly played with the bright blue T-Shirt in his hands while he unpacked his bags, unsure whether or not he should try and talk to the mysterious boy again. Chris or Dan (he was not sure yet since the strange boy did not introduce himself) sat on his own bed close to the window with crossed arms, sending Phil a nasty look. Phil just shrugged it off and let a few awkward moments pass before he gave it another shot.  
“So.. Why are you here? Did you just arrive as well, or have you been here for a while?” Phil really wanted to know whether he was set up with patients suffering from the same problems or whether they mixed people up. 

Dan turned around slowly, his eyebrows raised. “Well, I’ve been locked up here because I tend to hurt people who ask stupid questions and stick their noses into things that are none of their business.” He was obviously kidding, but it was not the kind of joke that invited the other person to laugh along. 

“Right, good luck with that”, Phil mumbled and turned back to his bags filled with clothes. There was obviously no point in talking to this boy. They both sat there, minding their own business; one of them unpacking his stuff, the other one lying down on his bed with his arms crossed, watching every step of Phil. 

Then the door opened again with a loud bang. Stood in the entrance was another teenager, maybe a bit older than mystery boy. He also had brown hair with a fringe. The look on his face was nervous and anxious, but he still gave Phil a kind smile and went up to him to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Chris! You must be Phil, right? Fancy meeting you here”, he said lightly; he obviously liked talking much more than his younger companion. Phil smiled in relieve as he introduced himself, too. At least there was someone in here who wanted to talk to him. 

Chris seemed like a nice person. He apologized instantly for the huge mess and speeded around the room to collect his things, while he kept asking Phil questions. They only stopped talking, when they heard a huge groan and watched Dan get up and leave the room without a single word. 

Phil stared at the door where the back of his other roommate just disappeared, before he turned back to Chris. “Is he… alright?” A strange thing to ask in a place like this, he thought, but he couldn’t help himself. 

Chris still smiled and shook his head “That’s Dan. He is always like that. He can be very nice sometimes, but he does not really like company. Just give him some time, you will get to know him a bit better”. 

Phil sighed, not sure whether or not he wanted to get to know the boy better, although there was still something about him that mesmerized him. 

“I mean”, Chris continued, “You kind of have to look after him now”.  
“Excuse me?” Phil asked confused.  
“Well, that is part of the mentality here, did they not tell you yet? They finally realized that the patients among each other have a quite strong connection and won’t go running to a doctor if something is wrong with their roommates, although they still encourage us to ask them for help if there is an issue. So they made sure that we take care of each other.” 

Phil raised his eyebrows. “I still don’t get it. Isn’t it better to tell a doctor if there was something wrong with Dan? I mean I don’t know what to do in an emergency!” 

“You see, the punishments are rather harsh sometimes. I would rather try to help and calm you down if you are freaking out than be responsible for you having to spend the next two days in the padded cell… Don’t worry, though”, he added, “I won’t cause you any trouble. Dan on the other hand…” 

“Why do you say that? What does he do?”, Phil asked, slightly alarmed.  
“Let’s just say... did you take a razor with you?”  
“Sure”  
“Get rid of it. But on the bright side, I think you would look fabulous with a mustache” Chris smirked. The dark haired man did not know what to think of that, not sure if he really understood the meaning behind these words, but Chris continued anyway.  
“Same goes for pencil sharpeners, needles, hairclips made of metal... basically anything remotely sharp. He can get quite… creative if he’s desperate”

Phil’s brain was trying to find an answer that suited all of Chris’s warnings. He thought about Dan’s tiny figure and the huge hoodie that covered his arms all the way although it was actually way too hot for that. He thought about the way the boy absentmindedly rubbed his wrists before… and he understood. “He… well, does he kind of… hurt himself? Is that the reason why he is here?” he asked cautiously. 

Chris nodded sadly. ”It happens way too often. I usually try to stop him from doing so, but it is not always possible…” The brown haired boy awkwardly rubbed his neck, as if he was feeling guilty. “It’s one of the reasons why he is here, not the only one though. You will notice a few more, but this is one of the symptoms where we as his roommates can actually try to help him”  
Phil nodded slowly, still in worry for the young, fragile boy.

“Well, if you are done with unpacking your stuff, we could go downstairs if you want? There will be dinner in two hours, so I could show you around a little. There are a few common rooms where you can watch TV or play games for example”, Chris said lightly after a few minutes of silence.  
Phil’s eyes lit up as he heard the last few words of the younger boy. He always loved video games, in fact he was a massive nerd. This would make his stay here so much more enjoyable. He jumped up enthusiastically and followed a laughing Chris through the door of his new room. 

____________________

 

“Are you actually kidding me?!”, Phil shouted only moments later. The girl, only a few years older than him, shrugged and said that there was nothing she could do about it. 

“But why? Why is that a rule?”, he kept on whining. The girl pushed a strand of red hair behind her ear and looked at the patient with a stern expression.  
“Look, a lot of people here have problems with anger management. And sadly violent video games are increasing the already built up aggression. So the founder of this place figured that it would be best off without them at all.”  
Phil snorted loudly. “oh really? Guess what, there are people who get aggressive without them” he raised his thumps to point at himself. “Exhibit A!”  
The redhead smirked a little at his expression, but did not give in. Nevertheless, she led him to a cupboard that was filled with all kinds of board games. Yes, Phil liked board games. A lot, actually. But they were no replacement for video games. He tried one last time: “Not even Mario kart…?”, but the girl shook her head, so Phil sighed in defeat before he let himself fall onto the sofa next to Chris.  
Chris rubbed his shoulder to calm him down. “Sorry mate, should have warned you. Wanna play a board game anyway?”

Phil eventually got over the loss of Mario kart and started a heated round of scrabble with his new companion. He was actually having a great time with him, even if Chris always tried to spell out swearwords, that Phil himself would refuse to pronounce. Time flew by and way too soon a tall guy with curly hair and piercing green eyes, who Phil thought was quite attractive and who obviously worked here, came in to tell them with a bright smile that dinner was ready. 

The two boys started to collect all the little pieces of wood with letters on them, which Chris threw playfully at Phil’s face as he got triple score for the fourth time. “you know”, he said while he put the game back into the cupboard, “you may have won. But I clearly get some extra points for creativity!” Phil laughed and pushed him gently as they walked into the dining room

____________________

 

The room was huge and it was only now that Phil realized how many patients were actually here. Chris led him the way to his usual table where the people from his and soon also Phil’s group were seated. Most of them already started eating, so Phil joined in quickly. The food was actually quite good - Phil had expected much worse, just like canteen or hospital food, but no, it was delicious and still much healthier than anything he has eaten in years. His plate was emptied within only a few minutes. He was only half listening to whatever Chris was explaining to him, while he used the rest of his attention to take in the appearance of the other people on his table. Most of them seemed to be around his age or a bit younger. They all made a rather normal impression, apart from one guy with longer hair and a douchebag-cap on his head. Everyone else did either ignore him or smile at him shyly, but this guy just glared at his empty plate, cracking his knuckles; he looked even more sinister than Dan, but in a more violent way. Phil shuddered slightly; he never got along too well with aggressive people.

Speaking of Dan, Phil noticed that he was not sat on the same table as him and Chris. He started looking around to find the brown haired teenager. It took him a while, but he finally did: he was sat at a small, round table with a pale girl all dressed in black and next to the green-eyed guy who called them to come eat dinner before, among a few others. He saw how the employee handed the girl a cookie. She sighed, eyed the cookie and played with it in her hands for a while. She looked back up at green eyes who gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She smiled and took a bite, which made the guy smile and offer her a high-five.

Phil was startled by the scene. That is until he noticed the plates in front of the patients at that table. None of them finished their food, although it was not too much at all (but then again, Phil could eat loads if he wanted to). The pale girl managed to eat about half, while Dan’s plate was untouched, his fork and knife still clean next to it. 

A few meters away, some of the staff exchanged concerned looks and whispered quietly, before one of them walked over to Dan and tried to talk him into taking at least a few bites. But it was just a waste of time, Dan was not willing to cooperate and they eventually gave up with a loud sigh. 

Phil still watched Dan when he finally looked up and their eyes met again. Looks like he discovered another one of the reasons why his younger roommate was here. Not a big surprise, to be honest. After all, Phil noticed his skinny frame right away. Nevertheless, he wanted to know more about Dan. He wondered what Dan’s story could be, although he was sure that the boy in question would never tell him. As Dan finally looked away, Phil’s thoughts still lingered over the big brown eyes of the broken boy sitting on the other side of the room, now talking to the curly haired cutie, but still not eating a bite. No matter how hostile he acted, Phil saw the little flash of sadness and anxiety in his eyes. Dan lowered his gaze again and nervously pulled the sleeves of his huge hoodie over his hands again. That was the moment he swore to himself, that he would try his best to help and protect the younger boy.

____________________

 

Phil never really had problems with falling asleep, but his first night at the St. Mountain was quite weird to him. He and Chris went to bed very early, although he did wonder where Dan was since he left his bed again after some of the staff came inside to make sure everyone is okay and in their room where they are supposed to be. Nevertheless, Chris fell asleep quickly, while Phil’s thoughts started to go around and around and around, like a carrousel. Two hours later, he was still awake. 

It was about two in the morning when the door finally opened and Dan snuck inside.  
“Where were you?” Phil asked sleepily. Dan froze. Nobody ever noticed him before since Chris was an extremely heavy sleeper. When he was in dreamland, there was basically nothing that could wake him up. Therefore he opted to simply mumble “None of your business” in Phil’s direction. He got undressed quickly without turning any lights on and made himself comfortable under his covers.

Phil rolled his eyes slightly and turned around, his face to the wall. He listened to the slow breathing in the bed near his own, which had a calming effect on him and he finally started to doze off himself. 

He was suddenly awoken again, as he heard strange sounds coming from Dan’s bed. It started off with a little whimpering. Before Phil could jump to conclusions that were not that innocent (Dan was a teenage boy and a wet dream would be completely normal, however not that pleasant for Phil), the whimpers turned into sobs and begging. “No… not again…” he breathed heavily. “Please... it hurts…”  
Phil turned around in confusion. “Dan?” he mumbled. “what’s wrong?”  
But he got no answer, instead the begging turned into loud, high-pitched screaming which made Phil’s blood run cold. He quickly tried to detangle himself from his covers and got up from his bed, reluctantly walking over to Dan’s bed. He was shaking and still screamed his lunges out. “Dan, wake up!” Phil whispered, grabbed his shoulder and started to shake his roommate to wake him up. “No… please, don’t touch me, please! Not again!” Dan stirred again, trying to escape Phil’s hands.  
It took Phil a while, but he finally managed to wake him up and convince him that he has no intention of hurting the boy who hugged his own knees, making himself as small as possible, still trembling. He looked up at Phil, his huge eyes filled with tears. 

This was not how the ebony haired man expected his night to turn out, but he still brushed the wet tears from Dan’s cheek and asked in a soothing voice if there was something he could do to help him feel better. 

Dan hesitated for a moment, not sure whether or not he should tell Phil. But then again, he already saw him cry. Therefore he pointed reluctantly under his bed. His roommate was confused at first, but decided to simply stick his hand underneath the bed to see what he would find there. His fingertips brushed something round and soft. He grabbed it and pulled it forward until he was able to tell what the strange object was. A bright smile was planted onto his face instantly when he recognized the fluffy grey ball as a Totoro. He quickly handed it to Dan who wrapped his arms around it tightly and nuzzled his face into the Totoro’s belly. As he got more comfortable, he managed to give Phil a shy smile and mumbled “Thank you…” 

Phil smiled back and said a quiet “good night” to Dan while he climbed back into his bed. He sighed happily since he was sure that Dan felt save – at least for now. Soon enough he finally fell asleep, dreaming of lots of kittens, one of them with huge brown, innocent eyes that seemed familiar. 

____________________

The next morning, Phil was woken up by his alarm clock. He groaned and hit snooze before he turned around to see whether Dan was still asleep, happy that they finally got along last night. 

Dan was awake as well; he lay on his back while playing on his phone. The Totoro was gone, probably stuffed under the bed again. When he noticed that someone was staring at him, he turned his head to look at Phil too. The soft, grateful expression in his eyes from the night before was gone and replaced with yesterday’s glare. They locked eyes for a moment before Dan addressed himself to his phone again, like nothing has happened during the late hours of the night.

Phil sighed. Well, here we go again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys!  
> Thank you so much for the feedback, the nice comments and the kudos, I was so happy to see you liked the new chapter. It made me really want to continue with the story. :)
> 
> in other news, I am traveling through Asia at the moment (for the next 5 weeks) and don't know how often I will be able to update. However since I'm on my own, I probably still have time to write :) 
> 
> Feedback is always welcome. Enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Implied eating disorder, implied self-harm, swearing

Soft snoring coming from Chris’ bed was what woke Dan up in the morning. He felt something fluffy in his arms and looked down. A huge Totoro was staring back at him. Dan’s eyes widened slightly. Oh. That’s what happened last night. He usually forgot about his nightmares in the morning – he got them so often that he got used to waking up screaming, soaked in sweat and tears. But tonight was different… apart from one of the employees, no one in here ever caught him crying. Until now, that is.

He thought there was something special about Phil from the moment they met. He could not quite explain it. Yes, Phil was extremely good looking, but that was not it. Usually he felt like people were looking at him and started judging him right away. But Phil… he did not look at him like that. He did not judge, he just observed. And he tried to help him last night. Dan hoped it was not pity that led Phil to act so kind – he did not want pity.  
No matter how much he wished that Phil actually cared about him, he could not bring himself to believe so. He learned from a very young age on that there is not one single soul that actually cared about Daniel Howell. Why should they? He was lousy, worthless, disgusting. How stupid of him to think that someone saw that differently.

He stuffed the Totoro with a lot more force than necessary back under his bed. There was no point in talking about last night with Phil; he decided that he would just pretend that it never happened. It did not matter how nice Phil seemed, how much he liked it when his blue eyes followed his movements or how attractive he was. He might just be a good actor and apart from that: looks can be deceiving. He knew that better than most people, he thought, while his fingertips ghosted over his thin wrists and the barely healed scars.

 

____________________

Breakfast was not much different to dinner last night. Phil was slightly disappointed by the lack of sugary cereal, but apart from that he felt okay. Chris was sitting next to him again, telling him more useful things about St. Mountain.  
Dan still sat on the small, round table with all the other patients who seemed to have an unhealthy relationship with food. They did not talk at all today, apart from Dan’s hissed “Watch it, Lester!”, when Phil accidently bumped into him in the hallway. He mumbled back “sorry” and that was it. He should be angry at the teenager, but he somehow couldn’t.  
However, Phil wanted to pay more attention to what Dan did or did not eat today; he observed how the teenager ate two little pieces of apple and drank some water but that was it. Phil shook his head.

What was going to a person’s mind who simply stops eating? Was he just picky? Did he lose his appetite? Was he determined to stay skinny, did he not see that he was still beautiful, regardless of his weight?  
Phil had always been a good listener; therefore he heard all kinds of stories and problems. He always tried his best to understand the motives of a person’s action. But eating disorders were something that just left him lost for words. Although maybe the reason for that was, that he himself loved food so much.

Nevertheless, this strange habit of Dan only left him with an even greater want to discover the story behind the guy with these mesmerizing eyes, zero appetite and a strong tendency to hurt himself – although he was still not happy about how their morning turned out. He would love to talk to Dan about it instead of just acting like nothing had happened, but he was afraid that Dan would rip him into pieces. 

However, right now it was time for Phil to focus on his own story, since an employee called out his name and motioned him to follow.  
“Phil Lester? It is time for your appointment with Doctor Molina”  
The young man swallowed loudly, sinking into his chair. Chris stroked his forearm in a soothing manner. “Don’t worry, man. Dr. Molina is quite nice. He’ll just try to understand what the matter is and find the right treatment for you.”  
Phil nodded shyly before he stood up to follow the tiny redhead who was accompanying him to his appointment.

Dr. Molina turned out to be a middle aged man with once dark hair that was fading to grey now. His wrinkly eyes were hidden behind a pair of round glasses; his thin lips curled into a smile as Phil entered hesitantly after he knocked on the door three times, but it just looked fake to him. 

“Philip Lester, nice to meet you. My name is Doctor Molina, I’m the psychiatrist who is in charge of your case. I’m here to work out the best way of how to treat you as well as have regular check-in’s with you where you are supposed to tell me how your therapy is going. This might sound scary right now, but we just want you to feel better again and that you are able to return to your everyday life.”

Phil’s first impression was that this man sure liked to hear himself talk. Nevertheless he shook the doctor’s hand and took a seat on the other side of the large office table. The doctor proceeded by telling him about the rules, the daily routines and the traditions of the St. Mountain’s, although he already knew most of these things from Chris. He handed him a list of things that he was not allowed to have in his room. Phil did not have many of them, he thought as he scanned through the list quickly, but he would have to get rid of his razor and his hair straighteners.

“So, Philip”, he continued with his smoky voice, “I’ve heard that there was a special incident which lead you to come here. Do you feel comfortable talking about this?”  
The black haired patient just shrugged. Comfortable was definitely not the right word, but it did not seem like he had a choice after all. 

“Good. Why don’t you tell me about it?”, Doctor Molina asked while crossing his legs and raising his pen and notepad. It took Phil a lot not to roll his eyes at the extremely cliché scene in front of him. “Well, I tried to kill myself. There is not much more to say”

Dr. Molina shook his head. “There is actually a lot to say, I guess. Nobody tries to commit suicide without a good reason, Philip”  
“The name is Phil, and yes, obviously they do! I don’t think that I belong here, there is nothing wrong with me. I don’t have an illness that can be treated in some way!”, the patient answered, feeling less and less comfortable. 

The Psychiatrist just eyed him for a while before he said: “You're in denial, Philip.”  
That was when Phil felt a rush of anger running through his veins. “I am NOT in denial, I’m just being honest! Since when is it a bad thing to try and please your family, to make them happy? All I wanted was to save them from the shame they would feel when they found out that their so will never reach their expectations!”

Molina nodded again and scribble something down on his stupid notepad. “Philip, I would like to go through a few tests with you, to help with our diagnosis.”  
Again, Phil did not feel like he had a choice, so he just sat still and waited for the doctor to begin. He passed his patient a questionnaire and asked him to answer all of the questions. Phil looked it through quickly before starting with the first question. There were statements written down along the lines of ‘Sometimes I feel like my life serves no purpose’ or ‘I feel like a burden to others”. The patient should now rate these statements by choosing a number from one to five – one meaning never, 5 always. Phil tried his best to stay focused but got bored rather quickly since a lot of the questions were similar. 

After that, Phil thought he might finally leave this office which, as he decided before, was his personal hell right now. But no, the Doctor continued with some other tests and after that he started to ask a lot of quite personal questions about his health, his emotions, his childhood and his parents to find out the origin of his suicidal thoughts. He answered them all, as short and non-detailed as possible.

This process continued for a while until Dr. Molina seemed to be done and they sat in silence for a few seconds. The raven-haired boy was almost certain that his torture was over and he could return to his room, until Molina said the one thing that made him go even paler than usual. 

“I talked to your parents.” His cold, almost grayish eyes observed Phil’s reaction. When he got no answer, he went on: “As you might know, they are in Italy at the moment – they left right after they dropped off a bag full of your stuff here. They said that they feel terrible for leaving you here, but I told them that in the first phase of the stay in a clinic like this, visitors are not permitted.” He looked at Phil again and saw him relax, unclenching the fist he subconsciously balled his hand into. Italy. He almost forgot about their annual trip to Rome with some of the members of their church. For once in his life, all Phil could think was Thank god!, ignoring the irony in this thought. 

The doctor cleared his throat to get his attention back. “Nevertheless, I think it might be a good idea to call them soon, explain a few things so that…”  
“No!”, Phil interrupted with slight panic in his voice. A surprised look appeared on the older man’s face. “No? You don’t want to talk to them?”  
“No… It’s just…” Phil fiddled with his hands in his lap, trying to find an explanation as fast as possible. You know… It is a very sensitive subject, so I don’t think it would be appropriate to discuss this over the phone. Sounds more like a face-to-face conversation to me.” Molina looked at him skeptically, but nodded after a few seconds of intense eye contact. Phil was not sure whether the older one believed him or not, although he himself thought that his excuse was perfectly believable; but to be honest, he just wanted to postpone that moment for as long as possible.

“But just so you know”, the doctor added, “you have to tell them eventually. You seem to show a lot of signs of depression, which is something serious that your family is supposed to know. It is your decision in the end, but the longer you wait, the more uncomfortable the discussion is going to be”

Phil snorted. “Depression? You think I have a depression? That’s bullshit. The only thing I suffer from is common sense and the need to not disappoint my parents. A lot of people would have reacted the same way!”

The doctor stayed just as calm as before when his patient started screaming. Obviously he was used to it. “Philip, you may go back to your room now. I will send an employee up soon who will make sure that you don’t have any forbidden objects about which we talked earlier with you. Then you will participate in art therapy this afternoon at two o’clock. I believe your two roommates will be there as well, they can lead you the way. Apart from that, I shall inform you later about your further schedule and my diagnosis. Is that alright?” 

Phil just glared at him before he took on the offer and left the office as fast as possible.

 

____________________

Dan sat on his bed again as the older boy entered their shared room, not doing anything really. Phil opened the door fast and slammed it shut again with as much power as possible. The younger boy jumped at the loud sound and glared at the guilty boy in front of him. “Jeez, do you want to slam the door any louder, you prick?!” 

Usually, Phil was taken aback by Dan’s hostile expression. But not this time – he already had taken enough bullshit for a whole year and he was not going to take any more of it. Phil was only on rare occasions angry. Usually he would do his puppy eyes, accept Dan’s hatred and wonder in silence why Dan acted the way he did. But today was a different story. He clenched his hands o fists, bit his teeth together and slowly turned around to face the fragile boy on the bed, who just looked at him in annoyance. And he snapped.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he shouted. Icy blue met chocolate brown, surprised at first, but soon turning as angry as Phil. They held eye contact for a few seconds both determined to not be the first one to break it. 

“I mean, okay, you hated me from the start just as you hate everybody, apparently. You want to live your life like that? Fine, go on! But at least last night you should have understood that I was only trying to help you! I did not hurt you, the only thing I did was waking you up from your nightmare, soothe you, make sure you feel safe again. And you know what then happened? You actually thanked me with a smile! So there is obviously more in you than just hate! Why do you act like it didn’t happen at all? You know that makes me feel like shit, right? Is that the point? You know what? Whatever. I don’t care.”

Dan’s eyes widened. He was not used to people talking back to him like that. At other periods in his life, sure, but not since he was in therapy. Everybody either feared him, ignored him or stayed calm because it was their duty. And Phil’s words hurt. Because they were all true and Dan knew this very well. His mind was racing, screaming at him, his hands started to shake during Phil’s speech, he needed to do something to feel okay again. He looked up again. There was nothing but disappointment in Phil’s eyes and Dan knew that he did not deserve it better. He nodded slightly. “You’re right. You shouldn’t care.” He turned around disappeared in the bathroom behind him, locking the door instantly. 

Phil sighed and took a deep breath to calm down. Maybe that was a bit harsh? But today was not a good day to piss him off. He almost wanted to knock on the bathroom door to make sure Dan was okay. But he decided against it, ran his hand through his black hair and left the room. Fresh air. That would help him, he thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Wow, thank you so much for the kudos and comments! They mean so much to me! :)  
> This chapter might have more mistakes than usual since I broke my laptop and have to write this on my crappy phone.  
> Nevertheless - enjoy!! :)
> 
> Warnings: Description of self-harm, self hate, implied suicide

It was a complete new sensation for Phil to feel so aggressive, so heated. Mumbling angrily under his breath, he sat down on the huge staircase that led to the tall white building. Everything that happened in the last two hours - It was just too much. 

Phil already felt bad for what he said to the younger boy. He really did not want to scream at Dan. But then again he still had no clue what was going on with him. Why can't they just be friendly to eachother? No annoyed glances, no shouting at eachother... It' wasn't that hard, was it?

But not only the young boy wrecked Phil's mind. No, also the talk with doctor Molina was still present in his thoughts, mocking him. When he arrived here, he was mostly concerned about convincing people to let him go since there was nothing wrong with him. But the psychiatrist made a quite good point when he mentioned the one topic that made Phil's stomach turn uncomfortably. His Patents.

He was so determined to get out of here that he forgot to ask himself: what happens when I finally leave this place? There was no going back to his old life.

What he was seeking through his suicide attempt was a clean cut. He would be gone from this world (in a way that caused his parents as less pain as possible - imagine they had to identify his body after he jumped down a bridge or shot himself) and was not obliged anymore to give an explanation of his actions. But by surviving the failed attempt, this option was taken away from him. 

As soon as he was free to go, or maybe even sooner, he would be forced to talk to his parents. Not only would they want answers to the question why he tried to kill himself, no. Suicide itself is already a sin according to the church his parents adored so much and followed without thinking twice.

Although his parents were definitely worried, as the tons of missed calls and text messages on his phone proved, there will still be a lot of reproaches and questions he was not ready to answer waiting for him.

This was worse. Maybe this was even worse than if he just decided to pretend for the rest of his life. Pretend, that everything was okay, that he did not fail to see a point in his boring job, that he was happy with a marriage that would never fulfill his needs and wishes in life. Pretend, that he was okay with the world he lived in.

He burried his head in his hands. This was the moment he decided, that he was not going to leave this place alive.

A soft voice interrupted his morbid thoughts. "You alright down there?" he looked up in surprise - he didn't notice that anyone approached him. 

The girl whom the voice belonged to hopped down a few stairs and sat down next to Phil with a sigh. He recognized her from last night - cookie-girl, as he named her in his head. She was dressed in black from head to toe; black converse, black skinnyjeans, a worn out bandshirt that hung loose around her thin shoulders. She made the impression of a once a little chubby girl who lost a lot of weight in a short time.

"Yeah, sure... Well, not really, but it doesn't matter anyway, right?" he answered as he crossed his legs. The girl gave him a weak smile. "Of course it matters. You're Phil, right? My name is Roxy. So I guess you just had your first talk with Dr. Molina, according to your mood?"

Phil was startled. "I actually did, yes... How did you know?" she laughed and brushed her fingerd through her long, also black, hair. "He tends to have that impact on people. Not that he is bad or anything, but he's not exactly... Empathetic. At all."

Phil smiled at her weakly. "I noticed, yeah. But I just don't feel like I belong here, you know? He was acting like there was something wrong with me, like I was crazy. And I don't feel like I am."

"It is ridiculous to call us in here insane. Don't listen to them. The real problem are the 'normal, sane' people who marked us as the misfits. The unthinking majority who just blindly go through their days without caring about anything"

The black haired man was not sure if he fully understand what she meant, but nodded after a few seconds. She certainly had a point, although he himself has never seen life that way before. 

She continued while tapping a rhythm on her knees, to a song that was not audible to anyone but her. "Everybody in here has a story. And sure, you can say that we suffer from some kind of illness. But in the end, the people who judge you don't know your situation, your past, or what's going on in your head. And who knows, if they were in a similar situation, they might have coped with it the same way."

'Finally somebody who understands me', Phil thought as he smiled at her fondly. "That is exactly what I thought... Thank you."  
They sat in silence for a while. He thought about her words again.. Everybody in here has a story... And promptly his thoughts wandered to his roommate who locked himself in the bathroom earlier; he felt a twist of guilt when he thought back at that situation.

"Roxy? You... Don't happen to know anything about Dan's story?"  
She smiled sadly and shook her head. "Sorry man, nobody does. I can guess about his diagnosis since we seem to have a lot in common, but what caused that..." she shrugged.  
That's what Phil thought. It was no news to him that the young boy did not share his past at all. 

Obviously the question and Phil's face gave him away; Roxy looked at him for a while before she added thoughtfully: "You seem to think a lot about Dan... Is there something you would like to tell me?"  
He blushed slightly. "No, it's not what you think. I just... He's my roommate and I am worried about him. That's all."  
The girl in black giggled. "Don't worry, I'm just messing with you. Although I couldn't blame you. Apart from this whole tough guy act he tries to fool us with, he is a quite interesting person. And cute."

Phil debated with himself whether he should answer, but decided to just agree silently.

"PJ worries a lot about him, too. Oh, by the way, have you met PJ yet?"  
"No, I don't think so.. Who is he?"  
Her eyes lit up immediatly. "Oh, you will love him, he is great. He made my life in here so much better. He has an internship here at the St. Mountain and gets along better with the patients than most doctors."

With a smirk Phil answered: "Oh really? Who is the one with a crush now?" It was Roxy's turn to blush as she hit his arm playfully. "Shut up, I just like him as a friend!"

"I'm kidding, he sounds nice. You should introduce us at some point. But I think I should go back now and check up on Dan... We sort of had a fight and I want to apologize for screaming at him... Thanks for helping me calm down though"  
"Anytime, good luck!"

Phil already turned around to go back inside, when Roxy called him back once again.  
"Oh, Phil? Since you seem so infatuated with Dan... Would you like to see a different side of him?"  
He just looked at the girl confused, but nodded reluctantly.  
"Do you know room 12 with the high ceilings? Go there between midnight and 2 am. He kind of stole my spot there" she smiled again and added: "You don't know that from me, though. But I think he could use somebody like you in his life. Somebody who cares."

 

____________________

Red. Red was everything Dan saw, felt and breathed, after he locked the door quickly behind him. His hands were shaking as he opened the small mirror cabine and took out what appeared to be a pack of chewing gum to everyone else. He opened it quickly and took out what his mind had been aching for.

The small blade sparkled in his shaky fingers. it was the last one he had; he had hidden them in different places around the room when he came here. But Chris and PJ had found most of them and threw them away immediately. He had to take other measures for a while to satisfy the screaming voice in his head.  
But this special one he got from opening up a pencil sharpener with a screwdriver. Dan toyed with the little piece in his fingers. So innocent and yet so dangerously addicting.  
The first cut was deep and calmed his hasty breathing. The sight of his own blood never failed to calm him down, weirdly enough. 

 

He was not mad at Phil anymore. it was stupid to think the boy with the ocean blue eyes was different. He obviously did not care about him. And who could blame him?  
Ugly, disgusting, insane, worthless...  
With every word his troubled mind hissed at him, he cut another fine line into his wirists, adding to the picture on his skin that was just showing a tiny fragment of the scars on his soul.

A loud knock on the door interrupted his actions. Dan breathed in sharply. "Oh, fuck fuck fuck", he muttered under his breath. His shaky hands cleaned the blade with a black cloth and put it back into the mirror cabine. Leaving traces behind was very dangerous in this enviroment and his blood was still everywhere...

 

____________________

The room was quiet when Phil entered it. He wondered if the younger boy maybe went outside, but something told him, that he was still in the bathroom. He wa right; the door was still locked. With a bad feeling in his guts, he knocked. No answer.

" Dan?" he said loudly and knocked again, with more force this time. Still no answer. By now, the ebony-haired man started to feel sick.  
He knocked again. "Dan? Please open the door!",

That time, he finally got an answer: "One second,be right there!". There was slight panic in his voice; his short answer was followed by some rustling sounds and the sound of him turning on the sink.

Phil sat down on his bed, facing the bathroom door, waiting impaciently, until he heared the key in the lock turn around. The teenager opened the door as slowly as possible. With shaky legs, Dan stepped outside, although he did not dare ro look at Phil. 

"Are you okay? You look... Paler than usual." Phil looked at him with worry in his eyes. The young boy pulled the long sleeves of his jumper over his hands and sat down on his own bed. "I'm fine", he mumbled. " Just a... Stomach ache" 

There was no way in hell that Phil believed this lie, especially after what Chris told him about Dan, but he decided to drop the subject nevertheless. "Oh, alright. Well, listen... I'm so sorry about earlier. I did not want to scream at you at all. I felt so bad afterwards. Please don't be mad at me?"

Dan's head snapped up in surprise - he sure did not expect an apology from Phil. He looked at the man in front of him to make sure that this was not a joke. But Phil's pleading expression seemed genuine, so he said after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence: "I'm not mad at you. You were right. I knew you were only trying to help me last night. There was no reason to pretend that this didn't happen"

Phil's eyes brightened up, a smile formed on his face. This was going better than he expected to. "So... We're good?" he asked cautiously to make sure he did not misunderstand anything.

The guy opposite of him nodded and actually managed to smile at him - shy and a bit sad, certaintly not as bright as his own, but it was still there. It was a start.


End file.
